Afghanistan (3 March-3 July 2011) at the British Museum is an exploration of a country at the heart of an ancient crossroad, a rich pocket of colonies, Greeks, Kushan Kings and as bold bead on the necklace of the Silk route.
Famed in ancient times for the richness of its natural resources, lapis, gold and rubies Afghanistan has perhaps indeed been neglected as an area of cultural interest, mainly due to its unfortunate recent history. In his opening introduction to the accompanying catalogue Omar Sultan, the Deputy Minister of Information and Culture of the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan laments the perilous situation of Afghanistan’s cultural heritage, including its folkloric music, calligraphy, tile work and painting (Afghanistan Crossroads of the Ancient World, Ed. Hiebert and Cambon, 2011. p.23). The recent volatile political life of the country has somewhat sadly resulted in a relatively infertile climate for the arts, arresting their progress and an effort for their revival is being called for. For this the British Museum’s cooperation is truly praiseworthy (I was fortunate enough to go to see the Bactrian gold treasures at an exhibition in Turin in 2007 and was very impressed.)
Some of the treasures on display, the Bactrian Gold, featured in the National Geographic in March 1990 and was the discovery of Soviet archaeologist Dr. Viktor Sarianidi. On excavating the tombs at Tillya Tepe, from where some of the most stunning objects of gold on display were on display, Dr. Sarianidi remarked “A nomadic princess from ancient Bactria looked straight at us after being hidden for 2,000 years.” This is archaeology at its most romantic, the unearthing of spectacular treasures and the burials of ancient royalty. For this reason Sarianidi’s excavation very much epitomises the classic treasure hunter archaeologist of public imaginings, compounded by the sad revelation of a local Afghani farmer who sits melancholically at the edge of the digs and relates that his wife chased him from the house saying “All my life you kept me in poverty, with gold lying under your feet everyday!” (p.213.) There is something as terribly poignant in this as there is exciting in picturing Sarianidi uncovering the princess with all her jewels as we view them in the exhibition, glittering and shimmering.
Particularly magnificent as treasure is the folding golden crown, formed of beautifully crafted, individual leaves and flowers in worked (hammered) gold sheet. This nomadic crown quivers upon its plinth as if an autumn bough in the breeze, touched by sunlight. It is left to the modern viewer to trace backwards in their mind and adorn an ancient wearer with such item and imagine the effect this may have created in a contemporary onlooker.
However, before reaching this chapter in the exhibition and in Afghanistan’s history we are lead through its Grecian influenced period. Particularly interesting are some of the remains from the Temple of Niches (2nd century BC) at Aï Khanum. One of which is a very Grecian looking head, the gender of which is ambiguous, with a wistful expression. Traces of red pigment on the right cheek seem to suggest the head was originally gilded in gold leaf (the remnants are indicative of an adhesive.) The sex is ambigious as its expression, seen as stern yet tender is very much characteristic of feminine forms in Greek art, yet the hairstyle, of tight curls about the forehead, is typically masculine. So the gender as is the purpose of this allusive face remains a mystery to us. (Ironically Khanum means ‘Lady!’) I was taken back to some of the androgynous statues on display at the Afghanistan exhibition in Turin with a note that hermaphrodites were considered godlike and hence divine (perhaps an Indian influence, which is evident in some of the ivory works on display in the exhibition, which also display some similarities to their precedents from Phoenicia, perhaps not surprising considering it Phoenicia that was famed and introduced fine works for furnishings and decor in ivory, c.10th century BC.)
The sensuality of the Indian Ganga Goddess figurines from 1st century Begram seem almost to audaciously unveil the image of the Burka-clad woman that epitomises present Western imaginings of the Afghan lady. In Afghanistan, seems the assertion, lived and breathed a culture every bit as celebratory of the female form as their surrounding Greek, Indian and Mesopotamian counterparts.
During the introductory film at the beginning of the exhibition it is emphasised that people today in Afghanistan have fought to protect such objects of art from raids, such as those conducted by the Taliban in 2001, on the National Museum of Afghanistan in Kabul. It is their “very act of silence that keeps the objects safe.” These elements combine to make us aware of a subtle political agenda manifest within this exhibition. Despite the constantly expressed ideal, one that I agree with, that such objects from our past should be kept out of reach from political ideologies and viewed for what they can otherwise be, vital clues in deciphering a collective human endeavour, we cannot render these objects apolitical. Such works of art, devotion and prestige are inevitably deployed as signifiers of a Nation and National identity. As such, objects from the past can be ideologically implemented to both destructive and constructive ends in human conflicts. Likewise, the display, destruction or interpretation of objects cannot help but communicate the ideals of those who have thus arranged them. Hence, the visitor is unfortunately given a sense that this exhibition has also become a project to justify the current situation in Afghanistan by demonstrating the West’s ongoing history as liberator democratising the East in the area. This message seeps through the ‘salvation’ of the female through a celebration of its nudity every bit as sensual as that found in classicism and the display of Greek images slashed by the Tailiban during a raid.
Being considered as 'Western' within this artifical diachotomy, doesn’t however make all these sentiments ring true to me on a personal level. Yes, it is sad to see historical evidence tampered with and denigrated and I am utterly for its defence, but injustices against real bodies is a much greater, more overwhelming crime. Confessedly this is more a personal response related to my own sensitivities towards the presentation of the political in this exhibition and is not intended as a criticism of the curation of the exhibition per se. I find these works of art beautiful in themselves and a truly wonderful rendition of beauty. There are many people who suffer under extreme forms of ideologies throughout the world, perhaps there are extreme views that judge the body as shameful. This is certainly not what I would class as an Islamic view, it is a fundamentalist view; and fundamentalism can be of any ideology taken to an extreme wherein it becomes deconstructive. What is oppressive is the lack of choice rather than the form in which an individual’s beliefs take shape. For us the naked body may culturally signify complete liberation, or else utter humiliation, it may signify simply another manner of being portrayed or of existing, perhaps the most natural and human of states. But here, I cannot help but view it, on the one level in the context of the exhibition as a surprisingly political metaphor and on the other, deeper level, as a humbling celebration of our humanity made to reflect on our own condition as well as that human achievement of a highly developed ability of self contemplation and reflection. Therefore, my only criticism of the exhibition and perhaps of the exhibitions at the British Museum dealing with Middle Eastern cultures in general over the last few years, is the manner in which they meditate upon the political aspects of the archaeologies context. It is utterly necessary to also raise awareness of this political context in view of the extreme dynamics of this area’s recent history and of the threats this poses to archaeological heritage. However, I found myself too conscious of this aspect, when I should have preferred a little more space to reflect on the humanity and artistry of the objects so beautifully crafted, without such political ruses. Although this may sound a detached and self-indulgent preference I feel it necessary in a sense to avoid these presentations reflecting a bias that omits our own culpability and instead a little self-congradulatory. This injects an otherwise noble enterprise with a sense of ulterior political agenda.
Looting is an issue that breaks all archaeologists’ hearts and poses a serious threat to historical heritage across the world. However, it is in itself a much more complex issue that would be suggested on the surface. After all, one cannot blame the war-devastated individuals who sell off their antiquities to a gluttonous Western Antiquities market to feed themselves or gain after so many losses. Morally we cannot condemn a situation we have partially created in countries like Iraq. Another perspective is that a heritage crises is preferable, however terrible, to the worse spectre of a humanitarian crises. As an inspiring archaeologist I would still rather the loss of an ancient site if it would in any way alleviate the suffering of living people than loss of human life or wellbeing, though rarely does such a hypothetical situation arise and if so is more conceivable in the face of natural disaster. The primary argument against looting I feel remains that the intrinsic value of an object is dwarfed by its importance as a piece in the jigsaw of our past and its context. Even so, paradoxically there is a danger that in condemning looting we are in some way still subjecting the use of a material past culture to our own fetishes and stunting the progression of human expression. Archaeology is a vehicle at the end of the day and not a destination. We do not arrive at the gateway of Meneas or stand on the steps of Ephesus and feel we have concluded our journey. The object is merely the beginning of an inner understanding of a past world we long for and can never fully conceive of. We attempt it mainly to facilitate our progression into the future and should it become a retrogression I would start to question the good of my discipline. Medieval people used Roman brick to reconstruct new buildings and we do not lament the removal of this brick from its original context, in fact it is a novel and interesting part of the archaeology, a riddle that delights us. I would condemn looting as much as the next person, but I have begun to question whether we are in danger of a beginning to treat a real threat as an ideological fad.
Reference: Ed. Fredrik Hiebert and Pierre Cambon, Afghanistan Crossroads of the Ancient World. The British Museum Press, 2011.
In Brief: A wonderful celebration of Afghanistan’s rich material culture and artistic heritage. A fascinating exploration, through stunning objects, of a comparatively neglected history within the Middle East as a region of study. A commendable project beautifully executed by the British Museum. The political comments heavily support western intervention, in some sense a real necessity to aid protection of heritage, communicated however a little clumsily and come across too consciously and a little self-congratulatory.
Verdict: A must see, it's visually stunning objects have a fascinating historical context.
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